Star Trek Online: Aimpoint
by Johnnie Zombie
Summary: While on a top secret mission in the Hromi Cluster, Commander Roell Janar is faced with a choice that forces him to question his faith in Starfleet.  Based on Star Trek Online canon.
1. Chapter 1

_Stardate 87786.47_

_Location: Hromi Cluster_

Commander Roell Janar thumbed through the astrometric readings pouring into his command chair. The USS _Crusher_ had been assigned to conduct a top secret research mission of the Hromi system's particularly volatile and untouched resources.

"Long range sensors are picking up a class one nebula, Captain," reported Ensign Ewan Kelly from his ops station. The red-haired officer spoke with an excitement that most aboard the bridge quickly adopted.

"Is protomatter present?" Janar inquired, looking up at the viewscreen with nearly solid black eyes. Kelly punched up a visual of the nebula without needing to be told to do so. In the distance, the swirling cloud of gray-green gas sparkled with irradiated space dust.

"More than enough to meet our needs, Captain."

"Lieutenant Mavel, take us in at three-quarters impulse and maintain orbit around the nebula."

"Aye sir," the Bajoran flight controller assented as he laid in the course.

The Federation had outlawed protomatter research back in the 23rd century, citing its hazardous properties to be more trouble than its worth, despite its highly reactive potential. Section 31, however, was now looking into using protomatter in torpedo warheads, an application that would make short work of even a _Vo'Quv_-class warship. The commanding officers of Section 31 had entrusted Janar to study the unstable form of matter and work towards a viable weapons application. The task was a daunting one, but the Betazoid was intent on delivering his superiors the results they wanted. The war could change drastically in the Federation's favor if Janar could successfully integrate protomatter into Starfleet's arsenal.

"Captain, an Orion vessel just appeared on our sensors," Lieutenant Commander RhomIra zh'Hess reported from the tactical console. The Andorian woman stood at her station, body tense and antennae twitching.

"Red alert. Scan for any other ships in this sector." the commander ordered, sitting a little straighter in his chair. After a few moments, zh'Hess shook her head.

"None, sir. The Orion ship isn't powering up defensive systems either. Nor is it in any particular hurry to get away from us."

Quirking a languid brow, Janar leaned forward.

"Either they don't think a research vessel is much of a threat, or they're flying blind. Kelly, put the enemy vessel onscreen."

"Aye sir." The image of the tranquil nebula was replaced by the Orion vessel on a steady, measured course.

"Open hailing frequencies." Upon hearing the familiar trill of an open channel, Janar began to speak in a punctilious, commanding tone. "This is Captain Roell Janar of the Federation starship _Crusher_. You are trespassing dangerously close to Federation space. Alter course now." The Hromi cluster was situated closer to the Federation side of the Klingon border and the _Crusher_ had every right to be here, but the nature of his mission and station were above classified, and one pirate could have the power to expose his work. Janar would not risk it.

"No response, Captain." Kelly reported.

"Well let's give them something to respond to," Janar said, nodding to his tactical officer. "Fire a warning shot across their bow." The Andorian laid in the weapon trajectory and onscreen, a bright blue beam of superheated energy swept across the Orion vessel's bow, stripping the hull of its darkly colored plating. Their shields weren't even raised. A knot of apprehension began to form in the pit of Janar's stomach.

"They're diverting power to engines! They're going to make a run for it!" zh'Hess barked, eager for the fight.

"Their heading?"

"The vessel is making a beeline for the nebula sir."

"Lay in a pursuit course, full impulse," Janar ordered his helmsman. Then, looking at his tactical officer, added, "Disable their engines when in weapons range."

"Aye sir," zh'Hess grinned, relaying his commands to her lightboard. Unable to share his compatriots' enthusiasm, Janar instead leaned back in his command chair and waited to see how this encounter would play out.


	2. Chapter 2

The Orion vessel was fast, its evasive maneuvers keeping it just out of weapons lock. The raider was closing in on the nebula, now less than forty kilometers away.

"Divert all power to engines!" Janar ordered. The weapons subsystems would be drained from the power reallocation, but since the enemy craft still hadn't raised their shields they only needed one well placed phaser beam to knock out their propulsions.

"Engines at maximum," the Bajoran pilot said with a quiet calm that belied his frantic console manipulation.

"Almost got a lock on them," zh'Hess reported, gray eyes scrutinizing her tactical board. After a few tense moments, the Andorian exclaimed, "Got it! Firing low-intensity phaser beam." Onscreen, another Tetryon beam blasted from the fore phaser array, striking a direct hit on the Orion engines. A small flare of heat and energy blossomed from the ship's aft as debris spiraled into space. "Enemy vessel is dead in the water, Captain."

"Slow to quarter impulse. Initiate scans." the commander said, making his way to the science station, where his second in command sat. Zoimi Sesta's dark violet hair spilled down her straight, slender back, her small hands the only part of her moving with any urgency. Janar leaned over her shoulder to monitor her progress.

"Bioscans reveal twenty Orion signatures, all apparently in stasis."

"Stasis?" Janar asked, eyebrows raised. "Who the hell is piloting the ship then?"

"Analyzing the navigational array." After the sensor sweep was complete, Sesta leaned forward towards her display. "The starcraft is on autopilot, but the system isn't Orion." the Trill officer looked up at her captain. "It's Borg technology."

Captain Janar managed to hold his composure before instinctual fear could rip it away.

"zh'Hess, confirm that there are no other ships present in this sector."

"Confirmed sir." the Andorian said. "We're alone out here."

"Borg scout party?" Janar asked his tactical officer.

"Doubtful, Captain. This does not conform to usual Borg protocol. They're not exactly subtle in their advancements into Federation space." Janar tapped his combadge.

"All senior officers report to the briefing room." Mavel, Sesta and zh'Hess were relieved from their posts by beta-shift officers. The three senior officers followed their captain to the briefing room and were shortly thereafter joined by Chief Engineer Liom Slan and Chief Medical Officer Amiil Dorin. Once seated, Janar placed his steepled hands on the smooth glass table. He looked around at his senior staff, allowing himself to feel pride and confidence in his crew.

Clockwise from his left, the Andorian head of security sat rigid, eager to get started. Her short platinum blond hair was stirred by restless antennae. Her slate gray eyes, however, denoted a calculated patience, which was why Janar selected her as his tactical officer. zh'Hess was a force to be reckoned with, but she also knew just how to apply that force to gain the best strategic position. Her father had been a high ranking member of the Andorian Guard, so zh'Hess received the best training from her home military and Starfleet.

Beside her was Doctor Dorin, the Deltan physician who exuded an almost unnatural composure. His smooth, hairless scalp reflected the light in the room, and his blue eyes studied a data padd in his long-fingered hands. Roell had met Amiil at a conference on xenobiology, which served to update interested parties on the new races that had joined the Federation over the years.

The two men struck up an immediate friendship, one that was fueled by the passion for healing and improving such techniques. While Roell had initial concerns over the Deltan's natural pheromone emission possibly placing him in a position of conflicted interest with patients he would be secluded with for months at a time, those fears were dissolved when Dorin took several precautionary steps. He swore an oath of celibacy while aboard any non-Deltan vessel and made it known to any man or woman that expressed interest in him. This was difficult for the doctor, as he was an intensely private man who only wanted to focus on his work.

Secondly, he took to wearing a surgical mask which obstructed most of his face. The apparatus served to dehumanize him in a way, in an effort to detract crew members from focusing their fantasies on his physical countenance, reminding them that their interest was simply a chemical catalyst. Jokingly, Janar always told Dorin that he'd trade telepathy for pheremonal emission any day, but in truth, the captain knew how lonely his colleague felt, and knew furthermore that there was nothing he could do for him.

At the end of the table opposite Janar was the young man from the newly discovered planet Zur, the gifted engineer who's intelligence and ingenuity far surpassed someone of his age. Slan was one of a dozen Zuruxians operating within Starfleet, but he valued his work with new and powerful technologies over social interactions with members of his species, of which there were none other than him serving aboard the _Crusher_.

To Slan's right was Cej Mavel, the Bajoran pilot who had put old feuds between some Bajorans and the Federation behind him so that he could pilot strange new stars and unnamed skies.

And, finally, to Janar's immediate right, was Zoimi Sesta, head of the science department and Janar's second in command. Zoimi was a joined Trill, her symbiote having lived four lifetimes, Zoimi's being the fifth. She was relatively young by Trill and symbiote standards, but the captain found her inconceivably wise and perceptive. Zoimi was a brilliant officer and a valued friend to Janar, and he felt fortunate to have her carrying out Section 31's demanding missions alongside him.

"We have a very unique situation here. We may be encountering the splinter Borg sect that attacked the Vega colony. Before I send an away team to investigate the Orion vessel, I want to make sure we're prepared for a hostile engagement."

"If the Orion-Borg drones are still in stasis, this would be classified as a Code Yellow threat. Still, I'd like to take a larger security detachment with me on the away team." zh'Hess said.

"Make whatever adjustments you feel necessary, Lieutenant Commander. Lieutenant Slan, I assume you've been scanning the Borg modifications made to the ship." Janar turned to the Zuruxian.

"Aye sir. The mess hall shows extensive plasma relay bypassing and, from what Lieutenant Commander Sesta has informed me, contains the entirety of the ship's crew. Most of the vessel's auxiliary and defensive subsystems are rerouted to power this area."

"One can deduce that the Borg are using the mess hall to house the drones, and the rerouted power is feeding into the stasis array." Sesta added. "Also, I detected residual disruptor energy on the port side shield vector, but there is no apparent damage."

"Borg regenerative repairs?" Janar directed his inquiry to Slan.

"Affirmative."

"Then the propulsions system won't be down for very long." Janar asserted. "Doctor, what can you tell us about the Orion-Borg drones?" The Deltan took a moment to project a biomapping schematic to the small viewscreen at the center of the table. The image was that of an Orion male, with highlighted sections that denoted the cybernetic implants.

"Because the vessel's shields are down, I was able to conduct a thorough bioscan on the crew. From what I can tell, these pirates were newly infected; the scar tissue around the implants is still healing. That places their encounter with the Borg at about a week. There are no biohazards present on board the raider, however, the environmental controls are low, so it's going to be cold in there. I advise that the away team wear environment suits as a precaution against hypothermia."

"Acknowledged, Doctor. I'll inform Section 31 that we'll have to postpone our R&D mission. Everyone will join me on the away team except for you, Mavel. You have the bridge."

"Aye sir."

"We'll meet in Transporter Room 1 at 1100 hours. Dismissed."

As the senior officers went about to make the necessary preparations, Lieutenant Commander Sesta remained seated.

"Roell, these Borg haven't taken any aggressive actions towards us since we encountered them, even after we opened fire on them."

"What are you saying, Zoimi?"

"That these Borg, if they're in fact a splinter group from the Collective, may just be trying to find their niche in the galaxy."

"Cybernetic pilgrims?" Janar scoffed. The Trill fixed him with a reproachful stare.

"Like Seven of Nine. Like Hugh. Liberated Borg."

"There's just as much probability that we encountered a scout vessel, and they didn't return fire because the drones are regenerating, unable to issue commands. We won't know for certain until we board the raider."

"I'm aware of that, Roell. But I'm also aware of Section 31's policies regarding witnesses; we don't leave any behind. I just want you to be prepared for the moral implications of denying a sentient species the pursuit of life and liberty." Zoimi stood and her bright blue eyes caught the starlight streaming in from the wide expanse of glass windows. "Regardless of your decision, you have my support."

"But will I have your respect?" Janar questioned quietly. Zoimi paused a moment, her face softening.

"You'll have my sympathies." And with that, the senior science officer left the captain in the starlight.


	3. Chapter 3

In a cascade of light and energy, the away team beamed onto the Orion raider's cargo bay. The hold was awash in sickly red light, further limiting the Section 31 agents range of vision. Commander Janar didn't like the claustrophobic feeling of the environmental suits, but grudgingly acknowledged their necessity. Behind him, his senior staff already had their Tricorders flipped open, running active scans on the ship.

"We're splitting into two groups." Janar informed them. "zh'Hess, Dorin, you're coming with me to the mess hall. Sesta, Slan, you'll take half the security detachment with you to the bridge and access their logs, flight plans, anything that can tell us what we need to know."

The team exited the cargo bay and separated at the corridor. After navigating through badly damaged hallways for some time, Janar, zh'Hess and Dorin came upon a turbolift, or the Orion equivalent of one. The doors did not open as they approached.

"Looks like we'll have to take the stairs." Janar grunted as he pulled open an access hatch. Before he climbed through, he double-checked the raider's schematics on his Tricorder. "The mess is two decks down. It's a small ship, won't take long to navigate the Jeffries tubes." The commander and his away team commenced the descent into the belly of the beast.

The security officers walked ahead of Sesta and Slan, sweeping the corridors with their phaser rifles. The Zuruxian was taking scans of the walls and bulkheads.

"Interesting." The engineer said quietly.

"What is?" Sesta inquired, eyes focused ahead of her.

"The extensive rewiring of the ship's power relays are irreversible. The raider won't be able support humanoid life again, unless it's entirely rebuilt."

"Curiouser and curiouser." Sesta admitted as they rounded a corner.

"It makes me think of a funeral rite Zuruxians sometimes observe." Slan said. "We're a very technologically inclined people. A common joke is that Zuruxians have power conduits for veins, warp plasma for blood. Some of our elders, when they're close to dying, choose to board a starship and live out the rest of their lives in space. This is known as the Shonza Paa, or the Peaceful Voyage. Maybe these Orion-Borg are doing something similar."

"I'd like to believe that, Lieutenant, as macabre as that may sound. But it would mean less complications for the captain, and hopefully we can respect these people's wishes." Sesta turned to the young engineer. "That is, if they are indeed on their own version of a Shonza Paa."

"I haven't ever thought of the Borg as people. It's...easier to think of them as drones, gears in the war machine."

"That kind of thinking works well in the battlefield, but not in situations like these. Instead of a boarding party, this away team could very well be on a mission of mercy."

"I have to admit, Lieutenant Commander, that your view of the situation is making me less apprehensive about slinking aboard a Borg vessel. Not by much, but it's something." Sesta flashed Slan a quick smile.

"You're welcome, Lieutenant." Sesta regarded her Tricorder, then looked up at a branching path ahead of them. "The starboard path leads directly to the cockpit. All right gentlemen, let's put these speculations to an end already. Ensign Kaplan, open the doors." The security officer retrieved a pair of magnetic discs and placed them on either half of the door. With a grunt of strained effort, the ensign pushed the doors apart.

When the doors were pushed open, Commander Janar stepped through first, pulse rifle held up to his narrowed eye. His team filed in behind him, then spread out in a standard defensive formation.

The mess hall looked like a ruptured, infectious wound; the floor and wall panels were stripped in some places, cabling and piping twisted to be connected to a large independent power generator. The regeneration array held twenty Orion males and females, tightly crammed together in the center of the room.

"zh'Hess, you're on point. Secure the area. Doctor, join me at the stasis array." The team moved with confident efficiency. Doctor Dorin and Commander Janar began roaming their medical Tricorders over the still bodies of the Orion.

"Doctor, confirm this reading for me," Janar said, furrowing his brow. "These Orion are being fully exposed to the environment yet they're showing no signs of hypothermia. Even their skin is still moisturized. It should be almost crystalline after all this time in such temperatures." The Deltan observed the epidermis of one male with his eye, then confirmed the incoming physiological data.

"This must be the biogenic field I've read about."

"Doctor?"

"While Voyager was stranded in the Delta Quadrant, Commander Chakotay encountered a group of liberated Borg. He gained invaluable knowledge about how their connection to the Collective effected their biochemistry. It seems that this device at the nexus of the stasis array is the biogenic transponder, which is sharing all of their neural energy and healing the damage to their bodies."

"How do you know all this, Amil?" Janar asked, surprised by the medical officer's insight.

"The EMH's medical logs while lost in the Delta Quadrant are shown only to a select few physicians in Starfleet. I was fortunate enough to be one of them."

"If you're trying to make me jealous, Doctor, you're succeeding." Janar admitted. He silently made a note of it to pry about those logs once they were safely aboard the _Crusher_. Chuckling softly, the Deltan kneeled to examine the biogenic field emitter.

"It seems that the drones are at peak health. There's no reason for them to remain in stasis, yet the majority of the power is being used to maintain the life support systems and the emitter."

"Do you think you can wake them?" Janar asked. The doctor looked at his captain incredulously.

"Well, yes, but respectfully, I don't see why-"

"I need answers that only one of the Orion-Borg can give me. This data isn't telling me anything about their intentions."

"Understood, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

"Combat date 45233.21. The damaged Borg cube on long range sensors has still not powered up weapons, even though my munitions officer assures me it's more than capable of doing so." The Orion commanding officer of the IKS Toroth, Captain Lumar, stated. The away team watched the viewscreen with rapt interest. It was their hope that the mystery surrounding the vessel could be revealed in the captain's personal logs, dating back to just before the crew's infection. "I have informed the Empire of our opportunity to salvage the ship and acquire its powerful technologies. If we are successful, the war against the Federation dogs could end in our favor, and the Toroth would be held in the highest honor. We are to hold our position until reinforcements arrive, which may take several days or so, as the nearest vessels are still engaged with the Federation Gamma Battle Group in the Xarantine Sector."

The log ended and Slan punched up the next entry.

"Combat date 45233.22. The Borg cube has self-destructed without provocation. Sensors indicate a shuttle is plotting an intercept course. Our efforts to destroy the shuttle have proven ineffective. It's those damned modulating shield frequencies! We're going to be boarded within the hour if we can't come up with a solution." The captain paused for a moment, his green face creased with solemnity. "If these are to be my final moments, then I regret to inform the Empire of my failure. But know that we will die with honor. I will see to it myself that we will not join their hellish Collective, that our bodies will forever be in service to the Empire."

The entry ended there. There were no more updates to be found in the log. Zoimi Sesta rested her chin in her small hands.

"It would appear that Captain Lumar did not get his wish." The Trill said with naked sympathy.

"Lieutenant Commander, if I'm corroborating these stardates with their flightpath correctly, that would mean that the Klingon reinforcements should be here within a day." The engineer said, his throat constricting. It should have been a simple research and development mission, and now the Borg and the Klingon Empire were involved.

"Download their flightplan and let's get the hell out of here." Sesta said, standing. She tapped at her combadge. "Sesta to Captain Janar. We should expect company very soon."

"What sort of company?" the captain's voice questioned.

"The Klingon kind."

"Acknowledged. We'll meet you back on the _Crusher_."

"Flightplan downloaded." Slan announced, shoving his data padd into his hip pouch.

"Sesta to _Crusher_. Five to beam up."

Doctor Dorin pressed the Hypospray to the neck of the Orion drone and joined Captain Janar just outside the forcefield emitters.

"Computer, activate level ten containment field." Janar said, and the computer responded with a trill. A shimmer of photons indicated that the force field was up.

"I placed the injection on a ten second delay to give us enough time to erect the field." The doctor explained. "He should be conscious in a moment or so."

"Wise precaution, Amil." Janar stood ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back. This was a rare thing, to have a Borg in one's brig, but the Betazoid couldn't allow himself to show the dread he and his crew were experiencing.

Suddenly, the drone sat up, arms spasmodically jerking up and down, servos in his neck whirring as his head whipped around to face them. His ocular implant flashed green, nearly blinded Janar. After a moment of erratic movements, the Borg seemed to calm down, and he stood from his bench and approached the force field.

"I am Lumar of Borg." The Orion said as he faced his captors. "Your biological and technological distinctiveness is of no importance to us. Release me at once."

The two physicians traded stares.

"I am Captain Roell Janar of the Federation starship _Crusher_. I will be happy to let you on your way, but I do have questions I need answered."

"Irrelevant." Lumar of Borg stated without inflection. "You will release me."

"It would appear that you only have two choices here, Lumar. Either you answer our questions and resume course to wherever it was you were headed, or you and your crew will be crammed in my brig until we reach Starfleet Security. The choice is yours."

"Your force field cannot contain me."

"Oh?" Janar said with a smirk. "You'll find that the field is equipped with I-MOD technology. That's short for infinity modulation. You cannot adapt to it."

Lumar reached out a hand to test the field, and when a shock repulsed his mechanized digits, he looked up curiously.

"State your queries."

"Glad we have your cooperation, Lumar of Borg." Janar began to pace slowly before the holding cell, choosing his line of questioning carefully.

"You refer to yourself in the first person. Are you part of the Collective?"

"Negative. I am a member of the Cooperative."

"The _what_?"

"The Cooperative is a group of liberated Borg who migrated from the Delta Quadrant. We are here to repay a debt to a one Commander Chakotay."

"Chakotay?" Janar recognized the name. It wasn't difficult to place it; the command staff aboard the USS Voyager were legend.

"Affirmative. The Cooperative is here to assist the Federation against the Collective."

"You're talking about a Borg civil war being fought on our shores!" Dorin exclaimed, shocked at the idea. Having two forces of Borg clashing in Federation space could only leave a trail of the most absolute destruction, neither side gaining any advantage over the other, leaving the Federation with dwindling supplies and openings for Klingon Empire occupation.

"Correct." Lumar replied.

"Have you spoken to any of the Starfleet officials?" Janar questioned.

"The Cooperative had only reached the Alpha Quadrant in recent months. We have spent most of that time conducting tactical surveys, tracking Collective movement, and remaining hidden from this quadrant's major powers."

"So then why do you approach us in these Orion bodies? You must know that they are aligned with the Klingon Empire." The captain inquired.

"Unimatrix Command ordered my crew to infiltrate a Borg Cube and unleash a computer virus that would disrupt the vessel's interlink," the drone explained. "It was our aim to liberate the Borg and integrate them into the resistance movement. However, with the Cube disabled, a Klingon patrol discovered us and attacked. The Cube suffered heavy damage and we were forced to annihilate the fleet. The surviving Cooperative crew escaped in a shuttle pod and encountered the IKS Toroth and initiated assimilation."

"For what purpose?" Janar asked. "How can you claim to oppose the Borg when you employ the same abhorrent tactics?"

"The mission of the Cooperative was critical to the Federation's victory." Lumar of Borg replied matter-of-factly. "The Unimatrix agents boarded their vessel and assimilated the crew, downloading their memories and directive into the minds of the Orion so that the mission would continue."

"And what is your mission?" the captain asked. The cyborg paused for a moment.

"That information is classified."

Captain Janar sighed. He looked to his chief medical officer, who seemed to seethe with anger. As a doctor, Amil valued the sanctity of humanoid life, worshipped the complexities of higher organisms. And here the splinter Borg faction was attempting to assist the Federation in a way that was diametrically opposed to all the core beliefs that made them who they were.

"This is not the sort of assistance Starfleet would want. You must understand that." Janar explained. "Shield frequencies, vulnerabilities in ablative hull plating, interlink override codes-this is what Starfleet Security needs to triumph over the Collective, not the defeat of one Borg faction in favor of another."

"You do not trust our intentions." Lumar articulated bluntly. He cocked his head to the side in much of the manner of a bird. "Your misgivings are irrelevant. Liberation and assimilation is the most efficient strategy."

"That may be so, but that is not how Starfleet wins wars." The captain countered.

"That is why Starfleet is losing this conflict." The cyborg had manifested into words what the ranking officers in Starfleet knew. Fighting the Romulans, the Klingon Empire, the Hirogen, the Terran Empire, the Undine and the rise of a new Dominion was an impossible effort and it was only a matter of time before ingenuity and resourcefulness would be exhausted.

Janar was in the difficult position of deciding between stifling the freedoms of a sentient race and giving the Federation an edge in neutralizing a myriad of enemies by allying themselves with a species that does not comprehend morality and human values. Janar was reminded of Earth's twentieth century struggle on the use of devastating nuclear arms to force their enemies into demilitarization, and of his own native Betazed's choice to employ the use of a forbidden form of telepathy that would destroy the Jem'Hadar occupying their planet during the Dominion War. The use of those weapons would result in the victor's loss of identity, of their sense of ethics.

Captain Janar made his decision.

"Lumar of Borg, I will return you to your ship. Before I do so, allow my chief medical officer to prepare you for stasis."

The Cooperative agent nodded, the laser emanating from his ocular implant bobbing.

"That is acceptable."

Janar leaned in toward Dorin, spoke candidly into his ear:

"Inform me when Lumar is sedated."

"Aye sir."

Janar made his way to the bridge.


	5. Chapter 5

"Captain, six Klingon vessels have just dropped out of warp." Ensign Kelly announced, punching up the visual. The fleet appeared in a tight formation, instantly zeroing in on the Orion vessel. "There's subspace communications emanating from the lead ship, but they are not receiving any replies. Obviously."

Captain Janar nodded. The gases of the nebula swirled around the edges of the viewscreen, casting a gauzy haze over the image of the Klingon ships. The _Crusher_ had flown two thirds into the center of the cloud and maintained position, waiting for the Klingons to respond to Captain Lumar's original transmission. The assimilated raider sat adrift in space, dead in the water.

"The Klingons are locking onto the vessel with a tractor beam and pulling them in." Kelly reported.

Janar took a slight intake of breath. He felt Zoimi's eyes on him, but he would have to deal with her later. "The vessel is five kilometers from the lead ship's docking port."

"zh'Hess, detonate the remote charges."

"Aye sir."

A single tap at the tactical console caused a brilliant flash of light to emit from the raider. Moments following the light display, a tremendous shockwave spread outward from the vessel, tearing the Klingon ships into chunks of irradiated duranium and bleeding plasma conduits. Two warbirds managed to limp away with moderate damage and warped out of sector space.

"Must be Naussicaans on those Birds-of-Prey." zh'Hess speculated. "They didn't even stick around to scan for us."

Captain Janar remained silent. He stood and addressed his bridge crew.

"Have the modified Bussard collectors full of protomatter by 0800 hours tomorrow. Keep me apprised of any changes."

Without a word, the Betazoid made his way to the turbolift. Just as the doors closed, Sesta slipped in. Janar sighed and steeled himself for the confrontation.

"Deck five." The captain ordered the turbolift to his quarters. Janar and Sesta rode the lift in silence, staring parallel lines into the sliding doors.

"You did what you had to do, Roell, and I respect the difficult decision you had to make." Sesta said gently.

"But?"

The Trill held her hands behind her back.

"Computer, halt turbolift." Sesta turned to face her commanding officer. "But we just murdered twenty people in their sleep."

"And four ships' worth of KDF officers."

"We're at war with the empire. You know there's a difference. We used those people, Roell, sacrificed their lives to protect Federation interests."

"When was the last time you read the Section 31 handbook, Commander?"

"I accepted the offer to join Section 31 to save people, certainly not to disregard certain inalienable rights whenever it convenienced us."

"You must think this is easy for me, Sesta." Roell turned suddenly to face his executive officer, his voice low but severe. "Lumar and his people deserved to live more than most. They fought for their individuality and freedom against impossible odds. I respect that man. But if he was allowed to carry out his mission, who knows what effects that could have had on the quadrant?"

"Roell, we're not just fighting for territory or supremacy, we're fighting to protect our loved ones, our way of life. If we abandon the very ideals we're fighting so damned hard to protect, then we go to bed looking a little more Romulan every night." Sesta visibly tried to calm herself, to lower her impassioned tone. "I know that if you didn't give the order, it would have come down from up above. I'm not holding you accountable for the decision you made today. But if we don't affect some kind of change in what is expected of us as Section 31 operatives, then we're fighting the wrong war."

"You're asking for the impossible, Sesta." The commander smirked.

"We're flying through space at faster-than-light speeds. We live the impossible every day. Changing a few minds and some protocols is easy."

"I'm just one man, Sesta." Janar said, feeling how painfully true the admission was. Sesta raised one hand to his face, touched her fingertips tenderly to his cheek.

"You're a man whom Section 31 needed to have on their payroll. You're an exceptional captain and your superiors recognize that. You wouldn't be here otherwise. You have the support of your crew. You have my support."

Janar met his friend's hand with his and gave it a tight squeeze. With his mind, he projected two words into Sesta's consciousness and loaded them with every ounce of feeling he could muster.

_Thank you._


End file.
